Beastly

by Laura Belle Peters

  He stopped, frowned. Looked back over his shoulder out the window.

  "Hey, Tabitha," he said, no trace of his teasing good humor in his voice any more.

  I stood up, following him to look out the window too.

  "Someone's coming," he said.

  We were both facing the window now, pressed against it, looking down the long road. No car was in sight yet, but we could hear the rumble of one approaching.

  "You're not expecting anyone?" I asked.

  "No way," he said. "Not this early, ever. Not a great sign. I'd like you to hide. Bedroom or basement?"

  I stayed for another breath, watching the edge of the clearing where the car would emerge. When it finally did, I gasped - it wasn't a car. It was my father's truck.

  "Get out of here," Beast said. "He shouldn't be here. This isn't good."

  I slapped my pocket, making sure my phone was in my pants pocket so I wouldn't be trapped without it, and ran to my bedroom. I wanted to grab a sweater before I went down to the basement.

  Too late.

  The truck was parking and doors were slamming.

  I couldn't risk my father learning about the secret entrance to the basement, so I had to stay put in my bedroom. I shut the door, locked it, and moved the dresser in front of it, wedging it in the corner.

  If he came in here mad, it wouldn't really keep him out, but it would be something. It would slow him down.

  The window caught my eye, but it was too small to get out of.

  I was well and truly stuck.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I cursed myself for being so stupid. If I hadn't hesitated and gone for the sweater, if I hadn't hung out at the window, I could have been safely in the basement where he couldn't find me.

  "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I whispered, sliding down the wall of the closet to sit on my ass, knees under my chin, hugging my legs. I knew, logically, that being in the closet didn't help one tiny bit, but it made me feel better. Some better, at least. A little.

  When he hammered on the front door and Beast opened it, I found that there was another benefit to the closet.

  The walls were thin enough between it and the living room that I could hear every word.

  I pulled my phone out to check the time, and, in a burst of inspiration, I turned on the recorder.

  "I'm out," my father said. "I want more. Your good stuff, none of the crappy shit I've heard you sell sometimes."

  "Sorry, all sold out," Beast said. His voice was even easier to hear, so deep and precise.

  "That's bullshit," my father said.

  "Nope, I really don't have any more to sell you. I have one last bag I kept back for myself, and I'll give it to you, you're a good customer, but that's it."

  "Why the fuck don't you have any fucking meth?" my father asked. "You're a fucking meth dealer."

  "Look, why would I bullshit you? I want your fucking money," Beast said. "I'd fucking love to sell you some shit, but I can't. I can't pull more crank out of my ass, okay? You can get out of my fucking face."

  "Shit," my father swore. "Motherfucking shitbag. Asshole kids who don't have their shit together."

  This wasn't good.

  This wasn't good at all.

  This was a big problem.

  My father was usually pretty self-controlled, except when he was on too much meth. I didn't know what he would do to Beast if he were high and he couldn't get more and he blamed Beast.

  I shivered once in the closet.

  I heard a crash and the tinkle of breaking glass.

  “Hey, asshole, cut it out,” Beast said. “That's my fucking shit you're breaking.”

  “Gonna state the obvious any more?” my father asked, his tone scathing. I could almost see the look on his face in my mind's eye, the sneering smirk.

  I felt so helpless, hiding in the closet like a little girl while Cory faced my father on his own.

  It was almost too much to take. I felt like I had gone back in time ten years. Like my mother had just died, and I was waiting for my father to drag me out of my room and tell me that naughty girls got punished.

  I didn't know what else to do, though.

  It wasn't like I could fight my father better than Beast could.

  I missed the next few things they said because of my own ragged, terrified breathing.

  "-Tabitha!" my father yelled. "Deal's off!"

  "No fucking way," Cory said back. His voice was calmer than my father's, but it was pitched so low that it was almost a growl.

  "I mean it, get the little bitch out here now," he said. "You aren't holding up to your end of the bargain. I don't have my fucking meth right now, do I? My hand is fucking empty. You don't pay me enough."

  "I'll have more tomorrow," Beast said. "You can take it tomorrow. I'll give you extra. Just chill the fuck out."

  "No, I'm sick of your shit," my father said.

  Sick of his shit.

  That's what he told everyone before he cut them out of his life. That was what I heard him say before burning so many bridges in the past.

  "You don't have the only crank in town," he continued. "I'll go to Flores, he'll hook me up if I give him the girl."

  "Not as well as me," Cory said.

  "Bullshit," my father said. "I only picked you because I like your new pink shit. Flores would give me more shit, for cheaper, if he could make Tabitha one of his girls. He'd pay me a little cash, too. More than you."

  "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

  "Yeah? Do I look like I'm fucking kidding you?"

  "You'd make your own daughter one of Flores's whores? You're one cold son-of-a-bitch."

  "I don't even know if the bitch is my daughter, her mother slutted around so much. Why the fuck should I give a shit?"

  "Because it's the right goddamn thing to do," Beast exploded.

  "Oh, I forgot," my father sneered. "I'm talking to the goddamn hero of children, the motherfucker who got outta jail on the sympathy card. Got off scott-free when everyone else there died or is rotting in fucking prison."

  "I don't call burns over most of my body getting off easy, but whatever helps you sleep at night," Beast said.

  There was a pause.

  I made sure my phone was still recording. It was.

  I wasn't sure if it could pick up their voices clearly enough through the walls, but at least I could feel like I was doing something.

  At least I was trying, for once in my life.

  "Do you see how serious I am?" my father snarled.

  "Woah, holy shit," Beast said. "No need for guns, okay? No need at all. Let's do this without guns. Please put the gun down. Or at least aim it somewhere else."

  Shit.

  He had a gun, and it sounded like it was pointed at Beast.

  I couldn't let that happen.

  My father had taken everything else in my goddamn life away from me, there had to be something I could do to keep him from shooting the man that I loved.

  Because I did love Beast. All doubt had fled from my mind.

  I needed him, I adored him, and I had to protect him.

  If my father wanted me, he would have me. Better than him standing out there pointing a gun at Cory. Better than cowering in a closet, waiting to be dragged out.

  I stood up.

  That alone took more courage than I would have thought I had.

  I slipped my phone into my pocket, recorder still on, and moved the dresser away from the door, making as little noise as possible.

  Stepping through the door took more guts, but I was learning that for the man I love, I could be brave.

  I padded out to the living room.

  "I'll go with you," I said. "Wherever you want. Just don't hurt Beast, okay?"

  I was careful to say "Beast," not "Cory." My father was on the edge of his temper and I didn't know what would set him off.

  I made eye contact with the young man across from me, willing him to see that I had to do this for him, that I had to be able to protect him, tha
t I had to take action for once in my life.

  "Tabitha, no," he said, swallowing hard.

  "Tabitha, yes," my father mocked. "Good job, girl. You know what to do. You or Karla, right? You or Krystal?"

  I nodded, my mouth dry as ashes, as I listened to his lying tongue wag.

  "Tabitha," Beast moaned. "You should have stayed hidden."

  "She's not as stupid as you, boy," my father said, the point of his gun never wavering from my beloved's gut. "She knows I would have shot you and left you to die while I found her. I would have found her. She's never been able to hide from me, have you, Tabby?"

  "No, sir," I whispered.

  I couldn't take my eyes off the gun, shining and deadly.

  It was the old pistol he kept in his dresser at home, the one he always grabbed when he was feeling nostalgic.

  He had others, newer, sleeker, but that pistol could kill a man just as well. It could kill Beast.

  "Come over here, Tabby," my father ordered.

  I walked over to stand beside him, my lip quavering, my hands shaking.

  "Beast and I have been talking, and did you know what? He broke our deal. He doesn't have any crank for me. He's a dirty lying oathbreaker."

  "Yes, sir."

  "So, since you being here was part of the deal, he doesn't get to have you any more."

  I nodded.

  "Flores will give me drugs and plenty of money for you, this asshole just gave me drugs and some folding cash. Bad bargain, it turns out. I let you stay for a while because the drugs were good, but no matter now. Deal's off, and I can get more for you."

  "Yes, sir."

  I didn't know how I could even speak, my mouth was so dry from terror. My eyes were wide in my face, and I didn't know if I could take another step further.

  "Unfortunately for you, Flores doesn't care about pussy, and he doesn't put on a pedestal," my father said, a nasty grin on his face. "He won't fuck you himself. He only cares about money, and he'll sell you to his friends."

  I didn't say anything.

  "He has a good business model. Come for the drugs, stay for the girls. Come for the girls, stay for the drugs. Whichever."

  I still didn't say anything. I didn't think I could.

  "You're going to pimp out your own daughter?" Beast asked.

  "What have I been doing for the past six months? I didn't give her to you so she could sweep your fucking floors and you know it."

  No one spoke.

  "Yeah, that's what I thought, asshole. Not so high and mighty when you're the one who wants a piece of her, were you? I gave her to fuck so I got drugs, now I'll give her to Flores to let other people fuck so I get drugs. Do I have to spell it out for you like you're a fucking child?"

  I forced my hand to stay still, to not pat my pocked to touch my phone, which, if I was very lucky, might be recording all this.

  If he saw the movement, he'd realize.

  He might be high enough to babble like a fool, but he wasn't a fucking idiot.

  More's the pity.

  "Besides, I was just telling your lover-boy here. Your knight in shining armor. I don't think you're my kid. I don't think you look like me, and I don't think your mother was smart enough to keep her goddamn legs shut."

  Silence.

  "Do you know what that means? I've wasted the last eighteen years taking care of someone else's kid, like a damn sucker. I could have been fucking rid of you and your mother years ago and settled down with a nice little girl like Kandy."

  He paused.

  "Maybe not Kandy, bitch is getting stuck-up. Once I've dropped you off, I'll go teach her a lesson."

  I shivered.

  The girls would be in the apartment, too. Either they'd watch my father beat their mother, or they'd get in the way and he'd hurt them too.

  There were no good options there.

  Besides, I didn't want Kandy hurt, either.

  I had to get my father out of here, and leave Beast to call the cops.

  My father saying I probably wasn't his didn't surprise me at all. It was just the next step on a bad trip. Anger, aggression, paranoia.

  It was all going according to his fucked-up pattern.

  I had to get him away from Beast, though. After paranoia came either maudlin tears or a blind rage, and if it were rage, he might kill Beast and damn the consequences. He thought he was way too smart for the cops around here, it wouldn't occur to him that he could get caught.

  I very carefully did not touch the phone in my pocket.

  "Well, bitch? You ready to go?" he asked, in a parody of concern.

  "Yes, sir," I said.

  "Good. Go open the fucking door," he said.

  He took two steps backward, but the gun stayed firmly pointed at Beast. My father might be a drugged-up asshole, but he had steady hands.

  "You, sit in that chair."

  Beast went to the armchair against the wall opposite the door, each movement he made exaggerated and careful.

  "Good job, boy. Toss me your phone."

  Beast put his hand in the pocket of his jeans and slowly pulled out his phone. He leaned over to put it on the floor and slide it over to my father.

  My father's heavy work boot came down on it, smashing it into pieces. He kicked the sad remnants, scattering them all over the floor.

  I hoped it wouldn't occur to him that Beast might have other phones. That I might have a phone.

  "Can I get my backpack?" I asked.

  Anything to keep his mind off Beast, off phones, and back on me.

  "What the fuck would you need it for?"

  "It's got all my schoolwork," I said.

  "And? Shit, you stupid bitch, you don't get it, do you?" he snarled. "No more classes for you. No more community college. Flores will have you fucking eight, twelve guys a day, until you're too worn-out to be useful. Then he'll toss you in a shallow grave. I've seen him do that shit."

  I didn't have to pretend to be fucking terrified. I swallowed hard and let the tears run down my face.

  "Please don't give me to him," I begged. "Please let me stay with Beast, or just take me home okay? Please don't give me to Flores."

  "I didn't keep you around out of the goodness of my fucking heart," he said. "You're eighteen now and if you run away I don't have to report it. So that's what you're going to do. I'll make it look good."

  "But you won't hurt Beast?" I asked.

  "Yeah, fine. You keep your mouth shut and stop whining about stupid shit, I won't hurt your boyfriend. Long as he doesn't do anything stupid like call the cops."

  He grinned.

  "Oh, wait. Can't do that, can he? By the time he does, it will be too fucking late. You'll be in South Carolina with a dick in your cunt."

  "Beast, promise me you won't tell anyone, okay? I don't want you hurt. If anyone asks, I ran away."

  "No, Tabitha-"

  "Beast! Promise me."

  I stared him down, willing him to understand. I wanted him to call the fucking cops immediately. My father's truck was distinctive. If he called soon enough, they could get him.

  They could rescue me.

  He swallowed.

  "Fine, goddamnit. I'm done with you and your crazy fucking family," he said.

  I felt relief wash over me. He never would say that normally. He had to have realized what I was talking about, had to understand what I was doing.

  "Good job, lover boy," my father sneered. "Get to the fucking truck, bitch."

  I started backing towards the door.

  Neither of the men moved.

  I stepped outside in the December slush, barefoot. I was lucky I was wearing even a light sweater.

  I clambered into the truck and buckled my seatbelt.

  My father paused on the doorstep.

  I heard nothing, then - a shot. A scream, cut off.

  My father ran to the truck and jumped in, striking me across the face as I tried to climb out of the door and unbuckle myself at the same time.